Eleanor strode up the ramp and into the heated concourse of the Seattle-Tachoma International Airport, half supporting half carrying Val. Whatever drug or drugs the alchemist had on board had crashed her out mid sentence shortly after the reached cruising altitude. Fortunately the transition from warm cabin air to the chilly connecting walkway and then back to the warmer air of the concourse seemed to be rousing her. It was also fortunate that a groggy traveler didn't attract too much attention. It was by now late in the afternoon and the early onset of twilight was already darkening the sky beyond the glass windows that lined the airports arrival terminals. Ellie guided Val down the escalator towards the baggage claim area allowing the other passengers, in more of a hurry, to power-walk past her to what they no doubt imagined were important engagements.

Fortunately the arcane workings of the baggehandling process seemed to be running smoothly and bags were already emerging from behind the slittled flaps of black plastic and beginning their circle towards their waiting owners when Eleanor arrived. Her own bag was one of the first off but she deliberately ignored it giving herself an excuse to linger while the rest of the team arrived from their own less generous seats. At various times members of the Sunday Group had suggested a personal lear jet for such outings. Besides expense there were good reasons to avoid such a plan, it made travel more conspicuous and it made the authorities look more closely, worse since the War on Terror had begun there were whole groups of people who wasted their time reading aircraft tail numbers and trying to spot clandestine flights. The last thing the Group needed was intel being spread all over some message board or whatever it was the kids used these days. Perhaps it was the thought of spies and espionage that made her notice, but looking up Eleanor spotted a man in jeans and a shirt standing on the edge of the crowd. Unlike the other passengers he didn't appear to be watching the baggage as it slowly emerged from the chute or checking his phone while he waited. Glancing to the other side of the crowd she picked up an equally nondescript woman doing the same thing. Fine hairs on the back of her hands stood up and she reached casually into her pocket and retrieved her phone. Turning it on she sent a quick text to Emmaline letting her know she had arrived safely then switched to the group text that the group were sharing.

[i]There is surveillance at baggage claim. Get your gear and get out asap.[/i]

Almost as soon as she pressed send the man she had spotted pushed his way through the crowd to the carousel. With every appearance of propriety he grabbed the heavy duffel bag that contained Clive's luggage and hauled it off onto a stainless steel pushcart. The wheels squeaked alarmingly under the weight. Simultaneously the woman stepped forward and grabbed Eleanor's own bag as it emerged to begin its second rotation. Without a backward look both of the apparent thieves headed for the door.

"Shit," Eleanor said under her breath, glancing around for the rest of her team.


[hider=Synopsis]
Mysterious folk steal some of our luggage. Who are they? No clue.
[/hider]